Invincible
by SomedayonBroadway
Summary: Jack Kelly had always been the big brother. He was untouchable. He was invincible. He always had been. Too bad he wasn't.


**I am so sorry, everyone. I know that I need to update. I'm working on it! I promise! **

**For now, here is a request that I got a while ago from Lunar-Eclipse412. It is a sequel to Big Brother The Hero. But I suppose it could be read as a stand alone. **

**Enjoy!**

"Romeo! Get off the table! I told you ta finish your homework an hour ago!"

"Okay! But ya gotta get Ike 'way from me! Geez!"

It was days like today Race wished to just collapse. Teenagers were so difficult. It was a miracle that Jack had stuck with them through so many of them going through stages like this. _God _he missed Jack.

The kid was barely thirteen now. His birthday just passed about a week ago and Race had wished he could just reverse the clock a little. Things were easier when Romeo had been the baby of the house. Now, things were different. Now, there were new, younger kids at his old foster home that needed attention. Kloppman could only do so much. So here Race was, twenty one and still driving his foster brothers to and from school, making them dinner and spoiling them as much as he could with the money he got from his two jobs before helping them with their homework.

Life wasn't easy. But he could do it.

It had been a year and a half now. Everyday that went by sent more worry and anxiety down Race's spine. His big brother was overseas again, in a country he'd never seen before, fighting beside other men and women who just wanted to defend their country.

But Race couldn't help but be a little selfish. He wanted Jack back. And he wasn't going to be quiet about it. It didn't help that no one had heard from him in over a month. That was the last call Race had gotten. Over a month ago. And he was terrified.

"Ya got anotha' shift at the bar t'night?" The Italian turned when the voice hit his ears. There was Crutchie, his feet up on the table of their old kitchen, watching him make dinner as he relaxed for the first time in days.

With a sigh, the other man nodded. "Yep. Got one more week a' probation n' then I's gettin' enough ta actually pay rent," he stated with a grin. Him and Crutchie had long since gotten their own place. Their landlord was a nice enough man who understood that rent would be late every so often. But it drove Race nuts that he had to have those kind of expectations.

The apartment was small. Only one bedroom. The boys didn't mind sharing. They'd been doing it this far. The place wasn't too far from their little brothers, either. And that was what really mattered.

Some of the other boys had gone off, gone to college. Specs and Albert, for example. Race was proud of them. He preferred to stay local. Online classes were good enough for now. He'd move on eventually. Just not quite yet. He wasn't ready to leave these kids behind. They still needed someone to provide a little more than Mr. Kloppman could. The old man was getting older each day. He did his best. He had money. But he couldn't truly take care of them all the ways they needed to be taken care of.

So here was Race and here was Crutchie, doing their best to make sure there were fourteen kids fed, and in bed each night.

"Good. I's been pickin' up too many shifts lately. It's your turn," the younger boy teased. Race just rolled his eyes with a smile and continued to cook up some spaghetti for the boys to eat. It was quick, it was easy, and he needed to get to work. "I can do that, ya know," Crutchie stated, giving his big brother a look that clearly said he was working too hard. A look he used to give Jack far too often.

It was true. Race was exhausted. But he shook his head anyways. "You's just got off work, Crutch. Take a load off," he instructed gently.

"Whateva', Race," the boy scoffed, rolling his eyes.

Crutchie was dozing in his chair within ten minutes. Race didn't blame him. He'd do the same if he could. It wouldn't last long. They were in the middle of pure chaos.

"Ike! Go away!" Race groaned at the call.

"Boys! Dinner!" He saw Romeo make to go towards him as the rest of the kids ran in from the living room, aside from Ike who looked to be doing absolutely nothing every time Race looked up. "Not you, Rome. You're almost done. Then you can eat." He stated, hating to say it, but knowing it was the only way to get his brother to actually do his homework. "Ike, go get your brother. Tell him he ain't in time out no more!" he had to start yelling as the eight year old ran to go get his twin. Twins. That's what happened when Race thought it couldn't get any harder. "And tell JoJo ta get down here too!"

Just like that, Crutchie was up again. Standing and reaching for his crutch. A newer, sturdier metal crutch that he bought himself. He was proud of that. "Alright, Race..." he yawned, shooing at his big brother lazily. "Get out. Go ta work. I got this."

It was always hard to leave. Race wondered how Jack did it. How he left this house knowing he wasn't coming back for such a long time. He knew it was hard. He knew Jack didn't want to either. But he did. And Race could barely understand.

But he sighed and nodded. "Alright... I'll see you at home..." he stated hesitantly as the kid all rushed in, trying to serve themselves. Crutchie stood immediately to help them. The twins weren't quite tall enough to reach the pot yet.

"Love you, boys! See ya tomorrow!" He rushed out, kissing some of them on the head or running a hand over their hair as he went to the door. "Do your homework, Romeo!" he called out just before he got to the door, picking up his backpack and throwing it over his shoulder.

His job wasn't one of the worst. It definitely paid more than the diner did. But he dreaded dealing with a lot of regular customers. They reminded him all too much of people he'd rather forget. Today, though, when Race saw a familiar face, he allowed himself a small smile. "Hey, Spotty..." It was about three hours into his shift by then. A little after nine. Spot came in at least once a week. Around the same time. He always just ordered a beer. He claimed it was nice to let loose, relax a little. But Racetrack knew the big bad king of Brooklyn. Spot did not like that he worked in a bar.

He was just keeping an eye on him.

"Hey, blondie," Spot smirked, nodding at him. "How're the kids?" he asked as he grabbed a stool at the bar.

The younger man shrugged. "They're doin' good. I'm beginnin' ta think the twins might be trouble makers, but it ain't nothin' we ain't seen before," he commented, remembering Romeo's whines about Ike not leaving him alone. And Mike. They were more than likely going to turn out to be little pranksters. Jack always knew how to deal with kids like that. Race had yet to learn.

With a laugh, Spot nodded, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I'll bet." There was a look in Spot's eyes. One that Race couldn't quite place. But he didn't press. Spot Conlon was a private person. Race respected that. But the next thing he said caught the kid a little off guard. "Get me two beers."

"Two?" Race asked, knitting his eyebrows together and cocking his head to the side a bit. "As in... you's with someone?"

Looking a little nervous and frustrated at the same time, the Brooklyn boy nodded his head. "That's what I said, ain't it?"

Race was a little shocked, but he grabbed two beers from behind him, knowing which ones Spot preferred, opening up the bottles for him as he was waved over by another customer. He gave Spot a look that said the conversation wasn't over as he went to take their order. Spot sighed as he took a sip of the alcohol, relaxing just a bit when the cool liquid slipped down his throat.

He wasn't quite sure how what happened next would play out.

When the kid came back, he leaned over the counter a little. "Are you on a date, Spotty?" he teased lightly, knowing that if Spot Conlon was on a date, the last place he'd be was here, with Race.

"No, I ain't on a date. I can do a hell of a lot betta' than this guy," he joked, like it should've been obvious. Like Race knew who was going to be there.

But the second another person walked up to the counter from behind Spot, Race froze. His eyes widened and his hands began shaking as he took in the person before him who didn't take any notice to the fact that he was even there. "Aww Spotty, I knew you loved me," a familiar voice laughed, clearly exhausted. He took a swig of his drink, sitting down at the stool next to Spot.

Race couldn't move. "Jack?" Saying the name sent a glimmer of hope through the young man's veins. Along with it came a pang of fear shooting through his chest.

He had to be dreaming.

At his voice, the other man looked up, green eyes wide. He was shocked. Race stumbled backwards a bit. There he was. That was his brother. Sitting right in front of him after being away for so long.

"Racer..."

That was him. That was Jack Kelly. Race could hardly breathe.

Another customer tried to wave the young bartender over. The kid was hardly paying attention. All he could do was stare at the man in front of him, confused and shocked and so, so happy. Then the customer began calling for him. He shook his head. "I'm goin' on break..." he muttered, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. He rushed out and slipped under the door to the counter.

He was oblivious to the death glare Jack sent Spot the second he turned away.

As the boy rushed up to his big brother, he felt tears sparking in his eyes. The man stood up to greet him with a small smile playing at his lips. It only grew as Race reached up, afraid to touch him. Afraid he was dreaming. Jack just grasped his hands in his own and slowly guided them to his face, letting Race sob out at the contact. "Wh-What the hell?" People were staring, irritated and confused as they watched the scene. They didn't care.

"Hey, kiddo..." Jack whispered, feeling his little brother's hands run through his hair and and across his jaw.

"What the hell, Jack?" Race sobbed again. Jack hadn't called him in over a month. Weeks of not knowing was beginning to kill him. Weeks of nothing was beginning to take its toll. And here Jack was, standing in front of him, without one word to let Race know that he would be back. That he was even still alive.

Jack had surprised him before. But this was different.

Arms were around Jack before he could think. He was locked in a tight embrace that he couldn't help but return. He grimaced at the pressure, but did not pull away. He whirled the boy around in his arms so that he was facing Spot who just watched him, emotionless. The man scowled at him. _I'm gonna kill you_, he mouthed silently. But the second a hand tightened in the back of his jacket, the soldier completely melted. He pressed a kiss to the side of his brother's neck and then the side of his head as he ran a hand over his blond curls. "I missed you too, kid..."

The Brooklyn boy just took another gulp of the beer in his hand and swallowed hard. He shook his head turned away, letting them have a moment. He didn't feel bad. Jack's threat didn't bother him.

If Jack had seen how hard it was for that kid to get along, the man would've literally run to him. No matter how bad it had truly been.

"I missed you... I missed you so much..." Race's voice shook. He clung to Jack, pressing a kiss behind his foster brother's ear. "Why didn't you call me, ya bastard?" he tried to joke. He wasn't. He was mad. All he'd wanted for a year and a half was this. To be able to just hold onto his brother who was alive and alright.

Silence was his only response. He didn't press. He just held his brother as tightly as he could. They stayed there for a long time. Race lost customers, others seemed to be touched by the scene. He didn't care. All he cared about was the man in his arms.

"Kid... ya gotta go back ta work..." Jack tried, though he didn't want to let go either. The hold only seemed to get tighter. Jack held back a cry and gently pulled back, smiling at the kid when he saw the tears streaming down his face. He reached to begin wiping them away. "I ain't goin' nowhere. Go back ta work... I promise I'll stay right there, yeah?" he stated, nodding towards the stool he'd occupied for only seconds before he'd been spotted.

"And I'll make sure he stays right there," Spot added. There was something behind his voice. Some other meaning was behind those words. Jack glared. Race just nodded, desperate to pull himself together.

"Okay... okay... just... what the hell, Jack?" Race stuttered out.

The kid looked so different to Jack. It had been a year and a half. His brother was all grown up now. It was hard to know that. It was hard to know he was getting along without him. But he was more than proud of him. All he could do was reach out and run another hand over his the younger man's blond curls. "Get back ta work, pal... I ain't goin' nowhere."

Hesitantly, Race believed him.

And then Jack and Spot were left alone as the boy rushed around to complete orders. So Jack turned on his old friend. "What the _hell_, Sean?!" he hissed, trying not to draw attention back on himself.

This had not been part of his plan.

The Brooklyn boy didn't flinch, taking another swig of the beer in front of him. He swallowed it harshly before looking back up to glare at the other man. "You were 'n idiot for not callin' him in the first place. Or any of your boys. Just tell them what happened," he stated, like he'd stated the same thing a hundred times before. "Knowin' them, they'll figure it out anyways." He was still bitter about the whole thing.

Jack wished to hit him. He had no right to spring this on his kids. "I specifically asked you not ta tell them. I called _you _because I thought you'd understand!"

"Yeah, well, newsflash Kelly! When ya go on n' get yourself shot n' end up hospitalized for a month, your family's gonna wanna know about it! That's somethin' I thought _you _would understand!" Spot's words were still hushed and careful, but they hit Jack too hard.

The young soldier glanced back over at his little brother, behind that counter, grinning and blinking back relieved tears. His hand involuntarily travelled over to his right side, hovering over the area just below his armpit. He was still sore.

"I... I can't tell them, Spot... not yet, just... he's already got enough ta worry about..." the young man forced out.

He thought about it every goddamn day. He'd grown up with so many little brothers. He was responsible for them. He supported them. He practically raised them. Kloppman had good intentions. But he was an old man. He didn't have time for all of them. Jack was saddled with so many responsibilities at once. He'd grown up so fast.

He never imagined that he'd have to pass on that responsibility. But he didn't have much of a choice. This is what he'd wanted to do. Since he was a kid.

And he'd gone and done it.

"Look," Spot sighed, fully turning to face his friend. "I know how hard it was f'r you ta leave your boys. Honestly, I dunno how ya managed ta do it. I thought you was gonna stay when ya went ta hug Race at the airport the first time... but ya can't just not tell 'em. They's your family. The only ones ya got. Ya shoulda called them..."

Taking a big gulp of the alcohol in front of him and letting it burn his throat, Jack bitterly smiled. "N' here I thought ya missed me n' you wanted me all to yerself," he muttered.

He'd known the past month was rough. He hardly remembered it. Mostly, he slept. When he'd gotten back to the states, they'd asked him if they should be calling his girlfriend. His emergency contact. While he would've given anything to see that woman, to hold her and kiss her and be with her, he didn't want to spring this on her, either. He hardly had enough courage to call Spot.

"Look... I'll tell 'em... just... not yet," he decided, unable to meet the other man's eyes.

He'd tell them. In a few years. Or seventy. Maybe when he was actually dying.

Spot didn't have anything else to say. It was clear he wasn't going to convince his stubborn friend to come clean. But he knew Jack and he knew Jack's boys. The truth would come out one way or another. It was just a matter of when.

For hours they sat, waiting for the bar to close, for Racer's shift to end. They watched the boy lock everything down before he quite literally jumped over the counter and stood just in front of Jack, taking him in once again. "I just can't believe you're here. You're really here..." he whispered out, a small, watery smile coming back to his face.

Jack could only shrug. "Me either, kiddo..." he breathed, letting himself smile when he was able to hook an arm around Race's shoulders. "Mind if I crash at your place t'night?" he asked, catching the glare that Spot sent him.

"You was crashin' at my place whetha' ya like it or not, Jackie-boy," he laughed out.

And just like that, it was like nothing in the world had changed. Jack was walking down the streets of Manhattan with his brother at his side, laughing at his jokes and shoving the side of his head playfully when he said something stupid. It was so familiar.

And yet, everything was different.

Spot went his own way home, taking his car and riding back to Brooklyn. Jack and Race ended up taking the subway back to Race's own place.

The apartment was small, but decent. Jack took in the sight. "Look at you, kiddo..." he breathed, still not believing that this boy was an adult. He was grown up. But it couldn't be true. "I'm so proud of ya, ya know that?"

The tug in Race's heart was enough to rip it out. All he'd wanted for so long was to hear Jack say that. That he was proud of him. Jack was his big brother. His best friend. And he'd missed him so much.

"I'm proud of you too, Kelly..." he responded seriously, giving him a light punch on the arm before he turned to shut and lock the door. He just missed he way Jack winced when his arm only slightly bumped against the wound on his side. "You can have my bed, if ya want. I can-"

"I'll take the couch, pal. But thank you," Jack cut off immediately. The last thing he wanted was to feel like was a burden. He'd already felt like that when he'd had to call Spot. He already felt so out of it. This was so strange. He missed everyone so much and he couldn't bring himself to see any of them. He was terrified to see the littles, whom Race would no doubt be taking him to go see tomorrow. Katherine was going to be something else.

With a small nod, Race walked into the room, letting his bag fall at the floor of the kitchen. Then he turned to head over to the small linen closet, pulling out a blanket and an extra pillow. Jack let his backpack fall at the foot of the couch. He sat down on the thing. Race came back and set the linens on his lap, collapsing on the couch next to him. Jack didn't look at the boy.

For a while they sat in a comfortable silence, taking in the fact that they were in each other's presence. Jack was sure Race didn't want to leave. He was afraid to wake up. Jack knew what that felt like.

But he also knew his little brother enough to know how much he needed to sleep. So he looked over at the boy, even in the dark seeing the kid looking right back at him. "I'll still be here in the mornin', ya know," he almost laughed out.

Race nodded, a sad smile appearing on his face. "You betta be," he yawned out, passing the things in his lap over to his big brother before he stood. "If ya ain't, I'm gonna have ta kill ya," he joked, leaning down to press a kiss to Jack's head. "I love ya, Jackie..."

"I love you too, Racer," he whispered back, watching as the boy made his way to the room in the back of the apartment.

And then, just like that, Jack was alone.

That was when it started.

_"Jacobs! Move!" _

_"Jack? Jack, wake up! God, don't be dead, please don't be dead!" _

_"He's lost a lot of blood. Has anyone called his family?" _

_"He doesn't have one." _

_"Someone hold him down!" _

_"Sir! Sir, you're okay!" _

_"Mr. Kelly, you are very lucky..."_

_"Welcome home, Kelly..."_

Jack sat up quick, hissing as his side screamed in pain at the sudden movement. He gripped at him, silently begging it to stop burning. He turned into the couch, blinking to try and remember how he'd gotten there. Tears stung at his eyes as he curled in on himself, barely breathing as the pain subsided.

The memories would always be there, voices that he couldn't place and faces he couldn't recognize would forever be caught in his brain.

It was all so loud.

Jack reached for his backpack. His phone was just sitting on top of the thing. Hesitantly, he picked it up, squinting a bit as it lit up, waking him up even more. He had no texts or calls, which was to be expected. It was a miracle no one had completely forgotten about him when he went off and left the country.

Deep down, he knew that would never happen. But he couldn't help but shake the feeling that maybe it could.

Maybe it was just that he suddenly felt very alone, maybe it was just that he missed her like nothing else, but somehow, his thumbs were stuck hovering over his girlfriend's contact. He couldn't help but smile, even only a little, as he looked over the thing.

She'd put it in herself. _Ace_, with about a billion different emojis trailing after it. The picture was a selfie she'd taken of herself after stealing his phone. Her eyes were crossed, her tongue was sticking out and her hair was falling in her face.

He had the most beautiful girlfriend in the world. There was no describing how much he'd missed her. Missed everyone.

This was something he'd wanted to do since he was a kid. He wanted to protect his country. It was his nature. But that didn't make it easy. He'd thought he would be alone when the time came. He wasn't.

It was six in the morning. She would've answered if he called. He desperately wanted to. But before he could, he heard a door creak open and he froze, a little confused. Race should not be up at this hour. The kid had barely gone to sleep four hours ago.

That was when it dawned on him. It wasn't Race. It was-

"Crutchie..."

The boy froze at his name. He'd been on his way to the kitchen. Now he was turning to Jack with wide eyes.

"Jackie?"

Jack pushed himself up quick, only hissing for a second before his little brother against him, holding him so tightly it hurt. It did. But Jack didn't care. "Hey, kiddo..."

"Am I dreamin'? I gotta be... I gotta be dreamin'-"

"Ya ain't dreamin', kiddo," Jack assured with a smile, wrapping his arms around the boy, ever so slightly adjusting Crutchie's arms so they weren't adding so much pressure to the most painful secret Jack had ever tried to keep. "I'm here. I promise..."

He felt the boy's tears bleed through his shirt. He didn't mind. He just buried his face in the kid's hair, trying not to cry himself.

He was really home. He was really here. Maybe everything would be okay.

"What're ya doin' up so early, Crutch?" he asked in a whisper, not wanting to wake Race who he knew was still asleep in the other room.

The blond boy in his arms pulled away, fisting at his eyes and desperate to clear the tears away. "I'm s'posed ta go ta work..." he explained shakily, not wanting to go now more than ever before. Jack nodded, understanding completely.

"Tell ya what... if you go ta work, I'll make ya breakfast. N' I swear I'll be here when ya get back," he promised, just as he'd promised Racer before.

The boy grinned. It was a blinding grin that could light up an entire darkened city. He brought his hand up to his lips and spit into his palm. Jack laughed as the hand was extended out to him. And he returned to gesture, shaking his little brother's hand.

That was the price of doing business.

It felt normal. For a couple hours, it felt like nothing had changed. It felt like Jack was still the big brother. Invincible. Because when Race and Crutchie were around him, it was like they were letting their guard down all over again. He knew that. All the phone calls he had with Spot and Katherine confirmed it. They could see it.

But Jack wasn't invincible. And he hardly felt capable of being the big brother. He felt broken. Like nothing would ever be the same now. And he just wanted to hang onto normal for as long as he could.

Though he knew it wouldn't last much longer.

It wasn't until later, almost ten, when there was a knock at the door. Race was still in his room, though Jack wasn't sure he was sleeping. But he went over to the door anyways, looking through the peephole before his heart dropped into his stomach and then flew at the same time. He wrenched the door open to find a teary face waiting for him just beyond the door.

Katherine gasped a bit at the forcefulness of the opening door. But the second she saw him, her body relaxed and she let out a sad laugh, shrugging her shoulders. "So it's true, then... you're here... n' you didn't want the hospital to call me..."

Jack could hardly breathe. It wasn't uncommon; her taking his breath away. It was amazing how beautiful she looked even when the tears streamed down her face like that. He tried to form words. Nothing worked. All he could do was stare at her, taking in every detail.

"Say something," she practically begged, not moving forward at all.

"Who... who called you?"

"I did." Jack didn't look back when Race's voice met his ears. He just clenched his jaw and lowered his head.

"You remember when you told me once that... that you knew your brother's tells? When they'd flinch and when they'd scream and when they'd wince. You knew what they were feeling. Every time," Katherine said. He remembered. He still knew. He knew his brothers. And he took pride in that. So he nodded. "Turns out, they know your tells too..."

"I called Spot," Race stated, moving over to stand next to Katherine. "He said you didn't want to tell us why you're really here when you weren't supposed to be back for another six months. But he told me anyways."

Katherine clenched her jaw and stepped closer to him. "Crutchie texted Race and told him that you seemed off this morning, too. So show us."

At that, Jack's head shot up. "What?"

"Show us, Jack. Please," Race begged, still in his sweatpants and old t-shirt.

Jack didn't want to. He didn't want to move. He just wanted things to be normal. He just wanted to be normal.

But the two of them continued to stare at him. Waiting. Just looked up and glanced at them both. Then, with an irritated huff, he reached with one arm to rip off the simple shirt that he wore.

Both of them froze when they saw it. Well, not that they could even really see it. There was a patch that covered the whole of it. But that only left the rest up to their imagination.

"Why wouldn't you tell us, Jackie?" Race asked, his hand reaching up to hover over the wound. Jack didn't stop him. He didn't answer him either. Katherine just walked over and hugged him tightly, pushing past Race who had already had his time with his brother.

Jack grunted on impact, but held the woman back just as tightly. "I'm so sorry..."

She shook her head, pressing a kiss to his bare shoulder. "How did it happen?"

"I pushed him out of the way... I thought I was gonna die..." he responded shakily as Race went to wrap him up from behind. "I'm so sorry..."

"It's okay, Jack... you're home now..." Katherine whispered. "You're safe, I got you..."

Jack nodded, holding her tight and twisting his head around so that he could press a kiss to Race's head.

Maybe it would never be normal again. But as long as he had them, he supposed it would be okay.

Different. But okay.

**This was a rough one for me to write for some reason. But I did enjoy writing it! I'm having trouble getting inspired at the moment. Any tips? **

**Thank you so much Lunar-Eclipse412 for this request! I love all of your requests so much! **

**As always, thanks for reading! Make sure to tell me what you liked, what you didn't, what you'd change or what you'd improve by leaving me a review! Love ya, fansies! **

**Tumblr: @SomedayonBroadway**


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